


Game On

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [32]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: BAMFcroft, Battle, Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, Mystrade Prompt Challenge, Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 00:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17929682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Alpha Mycroft Holmes loathed leg work, but he was damned good at it when needed. When Alpha John Watson and Omega Sherlock Holmes are kidnapped - it's needed.





	Game On

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts | Game

Mycroft Alexander David Holmes.

He knows exactly who he is. Groomed since his preteens to be The Iceman.

Not even those that groomed him expected the ascension of the man soon called Antarctica.

Give him a game board with players, a map with totems, crossed boards with effigies that dangled from strings, provide him with facts and figures, and then step back. That is where he excelled.

That the game pieces are people and politicians with the game boards being cities and countries was irrelevant.

The Iceman made no bones about it. He may not be the one who personally pulled the trigger anymore, but he will sometimes subtlety, and sometimes ruthlessly, set the targets.

Why? Because of the one other thing he knew about himself.

Mycroft loathed legwork.

Loathed it with a passion.

It was one of the many reasons why he had minions for that thing. Minions and on occasion, Sherlock - with the mandatory use of bribes or the incentive of a case rated at least an 8.5 on his brother’s priority scale, of course.

Even Watson had gone with his omega on an unsanctioned rescue mission in hostile territory. Both alpha and omega came out of it with a better understanding and respect of the other’s capabilities. The doctor of course complained before, during and after, but the detective and the Iceman knew the former captain loved every single bloody adrenaline filled minute of it.

It was a love Mycroft most certainly did not share, but an ability he was damned good at it when needed.

Enemies have died by his hands, regimes have toppled by his words. As long as his beloved United Kingdom, her territories and specifically Mummy and his brother were safe he slept well. It was all within his professional vein.

Due to Sir Edwin and Moriarty/Brook, Victor Trevor taken was taken captive and brain washed, and then Sherlock and John were kidnapped with no hope of ransom.

His nemesis had followed textbook procedure when he separated a bonded Alpha/Omega pair. It was a common ploy to get one – usually the omega – to yield before the pain of atrophy or severance began. It was usually only done for six days at the max. Though Sir Edwin knew he was not dealing with an ordinary omega, separation was a risk that was never supposed to be used on a pregnant omega. Yet, Sir Edwin had done exactly that.

At twenty-three days – Mycroft knew John and Sherlock had to be desperate for contact with each other.

This was personal.

The puppet master was adamant that this was one operation he would pull the strings on it personally.

Lauren had left Sherlock with two contingency capsules to ingest. One to mimic the exacerbated symptoms of atrophy without harm. Where they would have no choice but to get Sherlock somewhere near his alpha.

The second capsule was a tracker with a 72-hour lifespan. Sherlock would know exactly what they were and how to use them. Having removed or disabled all known trackers, Mycroft counted on their medical team not thinking to scan for a new device. They had twenty-four hours to put everything together and another twenty-four hours to execute it before the risk of losing the device.

The cartographer and his unit were in teams that either surrounded or were already in the facility in position. This was an intricate set of dominos and the first pieces have toppled over.

He looked at the flashing dot on the hand-held device and nodded to Anthea.

She began the countdown.

That flashing dot was his brother. Find Sherlock and then use their bond to find John.

_I’m coming for you Sherlock, you and your alpha. Hold on, Brother Mine._

With a less than 24-hour deadline in the balance, the Iceman called in a good deal of favors owed as ploys and moves were made.

Not one person on the newly expanded team so much as batted an eyelash when he emerged from his vehicle as armed to the teeth as the rest of them. Everyone understood.

If Omega Sherlock Holmes and Alpha John Watson did not come out of this alive it was because every single one of them there was dead.

There was no question: _the piper was about to be paid._

Antarctica was the epitome of his codename as he exchanged a look with Anthea. They were currently in radio silence the moment Anthea began the countdown. He looked at his pocket watch. There would be no communication for the next few minutes as all goes to plan.

It is the longest few minutes of Mycroft’s life, with the final seconds, utter torture.

5…

4…

…

..

.

Mycroft’s smile was predatory as the building started to go dark.

The chess master lifted his hand and moved the first player on the board – himself.

_Game on._

**Author's Note:**

> This is the opening half of an upcoming chapter in my current WIP ["Dearest Life"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14143332). It was already written and fit the prompt so well - especially the ending, I just had to use it.


End file.
